Title: Intricate: Faith's Story
Author: Felidae Silvestris
Chapter Two: Slayer
Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy, Angel, or the X-Men
Ya ever notice how all bus-stations tend to look the same? Every single one looks exactly the same. Only difference is the brochures and maps. You tend to see the same batches of homeless people sleeping on the benches or in the corners. All the floors are the same gray concrete and all the chairs are that same plastic. Been there, done that, am doing it again.
Greyhound stations are like a second home to me. I rode buses all the way to SunnyD and a bus to LA. It's like history is repeating itself, only now I'm older and not nearly so reckless. Oh, and no murdering vampire's after me this time. Truth be told, I'm probably going to end up reverting to some of my old ways in order to actually make it to SunnyD alive.
"Look, just give me a damned ticket!" A girl, about sixteen, seems to be harassing the ticket lady. She steps back, revealing shallow gouges in the wood the shape of her fingers.
"We don't serve Muties." The woman behind the counter was shaky but resolute as she steps back from said counter.
The girl's fists slam into the counter, gouging it again. "I'm not a mutant," she hisses before turning, stalking away, and slamming herself into one of those stupid plastic seats.
This girl holds my attention. Don't know why; don't really care all that much. However, I could feel another Slayer nearby and I was betting the girl was it. How many other non-mutant girls with strength enough to gouge wood with their bare hands do you come across in a world where you think you're the only Slayer? Not many I can tell you. So, maybe I got pulled through that portal for a reason or maybe it's just a coincidence. I don't believe in coincidences.
"I need two tickets for the bus to Chicago." And there goes my mouth, running ahead of my brain… again. I'm pulling a Buffy and I know it.
"That'll be twenty dollars." The man behind this counter didn't ask me whether or not I was a Mutant. I'm guessing he either doesn't care or assumes I'm not. Whatever, I don't really care. I fork over the cash and he forks over the tickets.
I slide into the seat next to the sulking Slayer. Oh yeah, Slayer senses tingling and all that. The girl's was definitely a Slayer. "So, kid, where ya headed?" She lifts her blue eyes to give me a "You talkin' to me?" look. "Noticed that old lady wouldn't give you your ticket."
"She's a bitch."
"Yeah, kinda noticed that. I've got an extra ticket if you wanna head to Chicago." I hold up my two tickets and her eyes light up. "The name's Faith."
She scrunches up her face. "That's weird, I'm Hope."
I nod; it is kinda weird. Go figure. "So, Hope, you game for The Windy City?"
Hope's eyes narrow. "Why are you helping me?"
There it is, the million-dollar question. Best go with the truth part of it. "Kindred souls or something like that. What you did to the counter, I can do that too. I'm not a mutant and neither are you."
"So what are we?"
I stand, looking down at her. "Come to Chicago with me and I'll fill you in."